


Destiny Hands Out a Favor

by Caseys_Crying



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: A LOT of Angst, A tiny sprinkle of fluff, Angst, But just a sprinkle, Don't worry I cried too, Dragon Hunt, Geraskier, I hope it does at least, I love these bois and I'm sorry for all I've put them through, I wrote it to hurt, It's mostly pain, M/M, this one hurts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:08:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23456791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caseys_Crying/pseuds/Caseys_Crying
Summary: Following the Dragon Hunt Geralt and Jaskier stand at the peak of the mountain. With all the rage and hurt bubbling over Geralt tells Jaskier to leave, for good. Jaskier doesn't leave, but Destiny fulfilled Geralt's wish another way.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 12
Kudos: 178





	Destiny Hands Out a Favor

“IF LIFE COULD GIVE ME ONE BLESSING, IT WOULD BE TO TAKE YOU OFF MY HANDS!” Geralt barked at Jaskier before turning his back.

This wasn’t fair. Everything Geralt fought so hard to keep was crumbling around him and there Jaskier stood in the center of it all. Geralt had faced nothing but dilemmas since Jaskier began to tag along on his life. Nothing but difficulties, and frustration, and annoyance around every corner every time the bard was involved. Now Yen had left him and he’d been reminded of the hold fate kept on him with that child surprise waiting in Cintra. Geralt didn’t believe he deserved anything, but could nothing remain constant in his life?

The bard stood still, frozen, he didn’t know what to say and suddenly the silence that hung around them felt like glass ready to shatter. He realizes that he’s holding his breath and has to put all his focus to draw in a deep gulp of air, needed to force it into his lungs. His brain flounders for what to say as he suddenly finds himself uncharacteristically tongue-tied. Another deep breath as he prepares to say something. But all he can get out is “I’m sorry, I’ll just g-“ before he’s cut off. 

All in an instant, a surviving member of the reaver party has taken a knife to Jaskier’s throat, and dragged it, digging through his flesh with vile hate. Jaskier’s frozen again and this time rendered near-mute, save for the choking and gurgling sounds that arose from him involuntarily. Geralt lets out an exasperated sigh, blinded by his emotions with his furied heartbeat in his ears, before saying “Just leave off bard.”

For one more second he still clung to the anger and annoyance that was taking root, but when he turned around to look at Jaskier with a glare, that’s when he saw. His eyes look at the scene splayed before him, of Jaskier falling to the ground while blood flows from his neck way too fast. The all too familiar smell hits his nose, it’s sharp and his mind even conjures up the taste of it. Geralt’s tongue stung with the flavor, metallic blood, splattering all over the bard. A battered reaver standing over him, cut and bruised all over, a seemingly dislocated shoulder, hunched over with crazed eyes and a fevered stance. 

Geralt’s senses immediately become overwhelmed. His words now feel sour in his mouth and he lunges with a drive and fury he’s not felt before. As he runs towards the remaining reaver, everything feels like it’s moving too slow like he’s wading through thick, heavy water. The memories of the last two decades run through him while he fights the current.

**_The time they were led on a completely wild goose chase by a village who swore there was a beast unknown to man in their woods. They described a furred monster who seemed to dance and had a scream higher than a banshee’s. For 3 days they trudged deep into the uncharted forests, only to find an unusually large bear at the end that walked with a limp and had scars over its throat. The bear was loud no doubt and seemed to have a good understanding of scare tactics and used it’s strained roar to spark fear in the villagers and keep them out of his forest. How, when they were faced with the bear who’s bark was so much louder than any bit it could’ve conjured, Geralt’s only thought was of how annoying the whole venture was and how he’d be missing out on some coin when they returned to town and let out a huff. And yet, Jaskier let out a belliful laugh and put a hand on Geralt’s shoulder to steady him as he hunched over holding his stomach. Geralt remembered that he cracked a smile that day, looking down as Jaskier was overcome with the hilarity of it all._**

Geralt tries to ignore the memory. He needs to focus on the running, the running to stop Jaskier from bleeding. The running to save his bard. But the past doesn’t wait for when it’s most convenient for Geralt reminisce. 

**_The time Geralt ran into Jaskier for the first time in months when he was at Oxenfurt. Geralt was there to provide beast parts for a professor to use in their classes, and Jaskier was there as a guest lecturer. It was strange, seeing Jaskier going by Sir Pankratz, and respond with professional, yet witty and charming answers when questioned. It was so different from the behavior Geralt had witnessed every time he saw Jaskier crack a joke, or try to woo his company for the night, or perform at a tavern, it was a whole new side of his travel companion._**

Jaskier is such a vibrant individual, he’s so multifaceted. Everyday Geralt could discover something new about the bard, and he’d never get bored. Geralt fought against the strain in his weary bones after the battle from earlier. He was more tired than he cared to admit and was pushing through with rage as his fuel while his mind wandered. 

**_The time that Geralt was injured fighting against a band of thieves. They were nobodies, but they had numbers and hostages. When all was said and done, the thieves would never steal again and the hostages ran back to their homes while Geralt gripped his dripping arm. Before they were back on the road to collect the coin they were owed, Jaskier bandaged Geralt and began composing his next song right then and there. It was the first time Geralt actually got a good look at all the little ticks Jaskier’s face made while he was trying to find rhymes and rework syllable counts, the way he bit his lower lip and mumbled to himself, the expressions he made to match the tone he was working on, the way his eyelashes flickered and his eyes danced across Geralt’s arm. It was mystifying in it’s own way how the bard put so much of himself into his work, and how you could see everything coming together just by watching him._**

Geralt pushes the memory down as it comes to the surface. He feels the rocks beneath his boots shift, but he keeps his balance and continues up the steep mountain’s edge. 

**_The time that Geralt and Jaskier crossed through towns for 2 months without any work. They actually got bored, somehow all these towns were lucky enough to have no brushes of trouble and while that was great for the townspeople, it was bad for the Witcher’s business. They ended up stopping in a town and just letting Jaskier perform night after night, encouraging battle between bards and new singers of the like to garner attention. And every night Jaskier left with more and more money. They stayed in that town for over a week, spending the day drinking the swill that tavern called ale, and then retreating to their shared inn room at night. And somehow, it wasn’t all that bad._**

With each memory that passes Geralt finds himself pushing even harder and feeling things he doesn’t understand. And he doesn’t have the time to understand. He has to get to Jaskier, he needs to get to his… best friend in the whole wide world.

**_The time when Jaskier got so drunk at a noble's ball that Geralt had to drag him out. And while Geralt was holding him up, Jaskier’s arm slung over his shoulder and his hand gripped onto Jaskier’s waist, Jaskier said “Thank you, Geralt. I love you.” It shouldn’t have meant much to the Witcher, Jaskier was always affectionate when he was run over with ale, but it caused Geralt to stop and look down at his bard who hung off him with reckless abandon. It made Geralt realize how close they really were. This little man was allowing himself in the company of a Witcher, a mutant who could kill him if he so desired. And he was drunk, defenseless, even his doublet was opened and exposed, and yet there he was, humming soft tunes to himself and expressing his appreciation for the company. No one had ever done that in front of Geralt. Even the women he’d bed kept themselves aware of his every move. Even Yennefer at least seemed aware of the power Geralt had. But Jaskier, this weak human, didn’t. He trusted Geralt with all his being, and never once betrayed the trust Geralt placed upon him. Maybe that was the first time it clicked for Geralt that there was more in life than he’d learn to expect._**

Memories pound into Geralt of every song the bard sang, every predicament they found themselves in, every monster they fought, every tavern, every dirt road, every inn, every night in the woods, every bath, every conversation.

All of it raced through him while his eyes were locked with those of his dying bard. Those brilliant blue irises that see so much beauty and wonderment in the world, and now they look to Geralt with wide fear, as if silently begging him for help. Those eyes that have watched Geralt for decades through danger after danger and never asked much but to come along. Those eyes that belonged to Jaskier, his bard. While Geralt stared into those same eyes that he’d seen a million times before, he realized something he’d kept locked away so deep in his chest that he never even considered it.

He loved the bard. 

He loved Jaskier. 

He loved him, and yet he’d just screamed at him. He screamed at him practically begging and daring destiny to take Jaskier, and she provided. Destiny is the cruelest bitch, but if Jaskier dies… if Jaskier dies and Geralt’s last words to him are condemning him to death and telling him to leave... Geralt would never be able to forgive himself. 

Geralt was pushing with all the strength he had, trying to run up the steep mountain’s edge while time seemed to drag mockingly slow. These revelations passed over him and threatened to take him under. He needed a second to process, but Jaskier didn’t have a second to wait. Geralt stumbled while the rocks and pebbles shifted beneath his feet, he fell forward and his hands were brought to the ground but he kept pressing on. The rabid reaver threw itself, practically foaming at the mouth with widened, irritated eyes, and leaped into the Witcher, causing them both to tumble back down to where Geralt stood when he cursed Jaskier. Now, fighting with an animalistic reaver, Geralt tried to rip the thing off of him so he could make it to his bard in time, but the monster gripped into him like a crazed animal, digging its fingernails into him and using its teeth to anchor itself to Geralt’s armor. After what felt like ages of tossing and turning and pounding and slashing, he pulled the creature off of him and flung it down the mountainside, not able to waste another moment to kill it properly. 

Suddenly time felt like it was moving too fast for Geralt to keep up. He was running and crying, and gods above he doesn’t remember the last time he cried. But when he finally scrambled back to where Jaskier was laying, it was too late. The bard’s eyes had gone dull, staring blankly down the slope where Geralt once was while his blood soaked the mountaintop red. Geralt reached out and felt the bard’s neck because he had to know for sure, he had to know if there was even a chance. But there was nothing, not even a flicker of hope. Geralt pulled back his fingers and saw them shaking. When was the last time something shook him so terribly he doesn’t know. What he does know is that Jaskier is dead. He pulls Jaskier’s body into his own embrace, letting out screams of burning, guttural agony. He’d finally realized how much he needed the bard, and now he was gone. Truly, utterly, GONE. In only seconds, everything changed. He lost Yennefer less than a minute ago, and in the seconds following he lost his Jaskier. Correction, not  _ his _ Jaskier, just Jaskier. They never got the chance to discuss anything more. 

The worst part was that he had no one to blame but himself. He drove Yennefer away. He told Jaskier off. He turned away from Jaskier. He failed to kill the enemy earlier. He left Jaskier vulnerable. He killed Jaskier...

He always expected Jaskier to just… be there. No matter what, Jaskier was always there for him. Even when he hated the bard, Jaskier stayed by his side. And now he never would again. 

He’d never walk by his side again. 

He’d never sing a new song that spun Geralt’s hero’s journey again.

He’d never dance around a tavern again.

He’d never sleep by his side in the dead of night again.

He’d never… breathe again. Jaskier was dead, his story ended and he’d never get any more time to live his flourishly vibrant life, ever again. 

As the desperate cries continued to rip through Geralt’s lungs, Borch, Tea, and Vea came back up to see what had caused such a ruckus. And that’s when they saw the once so bright and lively bard, limp in Geralt’s hold, eyes dulled and staring off nowhere. The blood still falling from his neck was now soaking Geralt like the soil beneath him. As Geralt’s screams died in his throat he managed to push some words through it.

“It’s not fair…” his wavering voice whispered into the bard’s hair.

“It’s not fair how much I love you”

With that they understood, but none approached the witcher in his grief. There was nothing anyone could give him that would’ve mattered anyway, the bard was already gone, and nothing was going to change that. No magic, no fate, no cures, and no vengeance would bring the bard back. 

“It’s not fair…”

**Author's Note:**

> This was so painful to write. I don't know how hard it'll hit any of you, but this hurt me a lot and I'm sorry. Go read some fluff and feel better guys.  
> Leave some feedback if you don't mind! I'm always learning and critique will help me improve!   
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
